


The Goalie's Girlfriend

by justanotherbadidea (TheWanderingJade)



Category: Hockey RPF, Tampa Bay Lightning - Fandom
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Reader Insert, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:03:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingJade/pseuds/justanotherbadidea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hockey night at Amalie, sometimes Ben needs a little perspective...and blue lipstick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Goalie's Girlfriend

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I get sudden ideas that won't get out of my head.

Amalie Arena was loud, and packed. This didn’t surprise you, and though outside it was a balmy 82 degrees, in the arena it was a proper comfortable 74--but it didn’t matter, the boys on the ice were sweating as they played hard, and you had your own flush going from all the jumping and cheering. They were tied at two at the end of the second, and from where you sat near the Bolts’ tunnel, you had a pretty good idea of the frustration of at least one player with the turn of events,  regardless of how the game ended,  one of the perks of being his girlfriend.

Normally you didn’t feel too disheartened if when the boys came out of the tunnel, you couldn’t make eye contact with your goalie boyfriend, he was more Bishop then--in the zone and focused entirely on the game; in truth it filled you with pride. But when they were having a rough game, you couldn’t help but try--a few of the other players, Kucherov, Boyle, Stamkos-- saw you and gave you a little nod, but Ben didn’t look your way, his back was to you so there wasn’t a lot to be done. Then you had a thought...one of those that sometimes got you in trouble, probably because it was more an impulse than anything else--and before your common sense, or friend could even ask what you were doing, you had moved from your seat to the railing. It was a feat, you were short, but the nature of the seating had put you overlooking the tunnel (the only time you could remember being able to look down on Ben, not that he had any idea); before you could think too much, and before he had noticed, you managed to lean over and press a kiss near the top back of his helmet. Leaning back before security, or anyone who could get you in trouble noticed you, you brought a finger to your lips, and winked at Stamkos and Johnson who by virtue of having been talking to Ben at the moment, saw what you did. To their credit, they kept straight faces as you scurried back to your seat before anyone could really be sure if they had seen you properly. It wasn’t until they had made it onto the ice, and your heart had settled back to its usual game rhythm, that you remembered...there were cameras, and if any of them had caught you...well, that would come later. While Stamkos, and Johnson hadn’t told Bishop, as the latter settled on the bench, you saw him gesture towards you as he talked to Kucherov, and facepalmed--Ben wouldn’t live it down if they all found out about it. Not to mention, you really didn’t want to have an awkward talk with Coach Cooper about it...but soon enough, everyone was ready for the puck to drop for the third period, and you figured you had gotten lucky and no one else had noticed. Well, no one except your friends, who snickered every now and again, but you could live with that--besides once the puck dropped again, all of your attention was on the ice. 

The third period was as intense, as you’d expected, the tension was palpable every time any of the boys got near the Ducks goal. Five minutes into the third, on a breakaway, Stamkos beat the Ducks goalie for a pull away goal--and you jumped to your feet shouting ‘Oh Captain, My Captain!’ with glee. It was infectious, and the Captain’s goal seemed to spread, because on his next shift out, Johnson got one in as well--while at the other end, Ben kept stopping Anaheim’s attempts (though at least once it was with a sprawl that scared the hell out of you, considering he had torn his groin muscle the year before). The score was up four to two, and the last few minutes of the game rapidly came up, as the Ducks pulled their goalie--you had a love/hate relationship with the empty net strategy, and as the announcement came for the last minute of play, standing with your friends you were reminded as to why. Hedman took a shot from the middle of the ice, and though the Ducks scrambled, they couldn’t beat it as the light behind the goal lit up and the Bolts cheered, while the second horn sounded to signal the end of the game. Your boys had pulled a five to two win, and you couldn’t help but be filled with pride and excitement as you, and your friends joined in with the crowd chanting. 

Though excited, the fans stayed until the players all left the ice, before filing out of the arena; you and your friends were in no rush, and in fact, always waited until the crowd was almost out before you headed up the stairs too. You had come with your friends to the game, but once the ice had cleared, you had pulled out your cellphone and sent Ben a text, asking if you could head back with him, knowing he’d get it once he was in the locker room. You and your friends headed down the corridor towards the exit, amused by the chanting still going on from some of the fans, keeping one hand on your phone so you could feel it vibrate with Ben’s answer. 

You made a bit of a face as you, and your friends made it outside, the change in heat sticking to your face, and you start pushing your sleeves up. You had layered a long sleeve shirt under your short sleeve team shirt, and though the sun had gone down, it had rained earlier and that mugginess of Florida is no joke. So focused on not tripping or running into anyone, you almost miss your phone notification for a text--but the grin on your face isn’t missed by your friends. 

“Getting a ride from Bish?” It should have been an innocent question, and yet coming from your friend, paired with that smirk, you couldn’t help but blush. 

“Yeah, but how do you manage to say that in a way that’s just...wrong?” You rolled your eyes as he laughed, and only answered with a shrug. Your friends headed off with you towards where the players headed out of the arena, to get their cars; a few of them had drivers, and some even carpooled if they lived close enough to each other. Technically, your friends could have let you go on your own, but they rarely did--they liked to make sure that you were with Ben before leaving, and while you could take care of yourself, you appreciated it. A few fans sometimes wandered over this way, but most didn’t, it was easier to meet the boys at official fan signings, plus plenty of people went on to local bars or parties. 

It was about twenty minutes before you spotted Ben heading towards your group, he knew it was always where you waited for him when you came to games--you could tell he was tired, but smiled anyway. 

“Hey babe. Sorry to hold you guys up, thanks for waiting.” Ben smiled, and gave your friends a wave, hugging you to him. 

“Not a problem, nice win tonight. See you guys later.” Your friends congratulated him, and headed off while you waved. 

“So, are they together yet, or what?” Ben’s smile was genuine, though you could see a bit of the fatigue as the adrenaline wore off. 

“Or what, mostly. I think.” You smiled and tilted your head at him, he was much taller than you, which was why even when you were in jeans, you’d try to wear heels or in the least wedges, it helped make up the difference, a bit. 

“Well, I’m sure they’ll figure it out, right? Ready to go home, babe?” His smile was a bit lopsided, and you swore your heart fluttered. 

“Definitely...” You took his hand as you guys headed off towards his car, you couldn’t help but run your fingers gently along the back of his hand while you walked. You chatted idly as he put his bag in the trunk, asking about your parents, and your job--you guys had been dating for six months, so you hadn’t moved in with him, though you had clothes and things at his apartment. There was a moment when he closed the trunk, that you had another one of those urges, and before you could think about it, you moved over to wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead to  his chest a bit. 

“Hey babe, what’s that for?” You could feel his chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you, and couldn’t help but smile. 

“I need a reason to hug you?” You grinned cheekily up at him, tilting your head to look at him. Your gaze met his, and you were startled a bit by just how blue his eyes were as he smiled at you, leaning in to give you a quick peck on the lips. 

“No, just curious since you look so pleased with yourself. Let’s get home, baby girl.” His voice always soothed you, but when he called you baby girl, you’d suddenly feel flushed, and judging by his little smirk, he knew it. 

“I always look pleased with myself, when I’m with you.” You let him go, and headed for the passenger’s seat, Ben right behind you to open your door. He playfully swatted your rear as you got in, and made sure you were all settled before closing your door, while you adjusted your seat belt. Ben got in soon enough, and though he probably wouldn’t say anything, you were already making a mental note of the tension in his shoulders, but you knew better than to bring it up now so you didn’t--instead just humming along with the radio when it turned on. 

The drive wasn’t long, and you couldn’t help but smile as Ben reached over and took your hand while he drove, lacing your fingers together gently--it was the little touches, the ones which were almost just absent minded, that made your stomach flutter, they made you feel that he was always aware of where you were, when you were together. Parking and heading up to his apartment was a quiet affair, that was another thing about the two of you, you could share silence, and it rarely felt awkward. 

Though you didn’t live together, you guys did have a bit of a routine for coming home after a game, Ben would take care of his bag, and you’d head to the kitchen to set the coffeemaker for the next morning, Ben showered at the arena before leaving so that wasn’t an issue. Normally, you’d take off your shoes, but kept them on while you were in the kitchen, mostly because you didn’t want to stub your toe, plus the tiles were almost always cold. Satisfied that you would wake up to the smell of coffee brewing, you turned off the lights in the kitchen, and headed for the bedroom. 

You found Ben sitting on his bed, working his shoes off; while at first glance this wasn’t anything new, you could read the tension in his back, and couldn’t help but half smile to yourself. Slipping off your own shoes, and stowing them in their usual spot out of the way, you moved over to him, sitting on the bed and resting your cheek to his shoulder. 

“You did well, you know.” The silence had settled around the two of you, as Ben got his shoes off, and he only let out a light hum in response. 

“I could have done it better, stopped those two goals...” There was a bit of a growl in his tone, and you knew it was because he was still replaying those goals in his mind. You couldn’t help but love how serious he took what he did, but you also knew he’d keep replaying those goals that got past him in his head if allowed. 

“Babe, you did fantastic. I mean, you scared the hell out of me with that split because I’m a worrywart, but you did grand. The ones that got past you, were almost impossible to have been stopped, I mean seriously that one goal shouldn't have been allowed, definite goalie interference. Please don’t beat yourself up over them.” You hugged onto him, doing your best to give him cute eyes, you knew too much would be kind of annoying, so you mostly did enough to make him chuckle. 

“Interference, huh?” He arched a brow, wrapping his arms around you, and kissing your forehead. 

“Well, yeah...you know me, I want to throw my shoes at anyone who comes within a three foot radius of you when you’re in goal. To be fair, I want to do the same when Andrei is in net too. My babes...” You pouted playfully, as Ben laughed, running his hand down your back gently. 

“Most of us are bigger than you are, though. But it is cute that you’re this protective of us, when we all have padding on...” He shook his head, and sighed, slowly you could tell that he was relaxing and focusing on anything but the goals Anaheim got in on him. 

“Well, why wouldn’t I be? I was just as protective when I didn't even know any of you personally. I’m more so now, because...well you’re all part of my life.” You shrugged, and shifted to pull back from him when you felt Ben’s hold tighten, keeping you close. 

“You really are something else, babe.” As far as you were concerned, Ben’s face lit up when he smiled, and it was like your heart was being tugged by a string, because it would race whenever this happened. His leaning in and meeting your lips with his, didn’t help the hammering of your heart but you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

The kissing most definitely pushed Anaheim out of his mind, and before you knew it, you had straddled his lap and Ben was lying back on the bed, though his feet were on the ground. Looking down at him, you remembered the helmet kiss, and felt the inevitable blush rushing to your cheeks, but before you could blurt out what you had done earlier, Ben tugged you down and the kissing continued until you both needed air. 

Even with all the kissing, the two of you did manage to get ready for bed, because in the very least, you both had to get out of the clothes you had come home in. Once you were settled in bed, under the covers, being the little spoon mostly lulled by Ben’s steady breathing, and his fingers making patterns on your stomach slowly, it happened. 

“I really like the blue lipstick by the way, it’s quite clever.” You felt him nuzzle into the back of your head, and his words almost didn’t make sense to your tired, comfortable, sleepy brain. 

“Oh? I think I might wear it to each game I go to...” You waited a moment, to see if he’d bring up the blue lipstick mark on his helmet, but Ben just kissed the crown of your head, and snuggled you closer to him with a soft, good night. 


End file.
